


Well Fed

by White Queen Writes (fhartz91)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, AziraFeast (Good Omens), Aziraphale wants to eat sushi, Crowley wants to eat something else, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Lovers, Kinktober, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Valentine's Day, just the ramblings of an ineffable bdsm expert, mild bdsm undertones, using sushi as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/White%20Queen%20Writes
Summary: Aziraphale wants to do something scintillating for his husband for Valentine's Day, but when the moment arises, he's just not feeling it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Well Fed

**Author's Note:**

> I think I was writing this for a number of different things - for Azirafeast, and then for Kinktober, and finally for Valentine's Day. I just now finished it. I think it's sweet. I hope you enjoy it :D

“Well, well, well. Don’t you look a tasty treat?”

Aziraphale peeks over at his devilishly handsome husband strolling his way into the dungeonesque dining room and sighs, feeling more than a bit ridiculous in his current situation. “If you say so, my dear.”

Crowley frowns playfully at his sullen husband. “Aww, angel. Why so down in the dumps, hmm?”

“I know I promised to do something... " Aziraphale clears a nugget of discomfort from his throat, his pale cheeks glowing as red as Crowley's hair "... _scintillating_ for you for Valentine's, but I thought you meant wear scandalous lingerie. Perhaps perform a seductive dance. But this... " He pauses to glance down the length of his body, gaze skimming the delicacies displayed atop his bare, goosepimpled flesh, rolling his eyes at the _de Sade_ of it all "... makes me sad. " A mound of crushed ice on his pecs collapses in on itself and releases several thin rivers. They flow swiftly down his chest, causing a chill in their wake. He shivers, clenching his teeth tight to avoid losing a single bite of their meal. "And _cold_.”

“Why sad?”

“Because _you_ get to sample all of the tasty treats," Aziraphale pouts, "and I don’t.”

“I promised I’d feed you.”

“It’s not the same. Part of the joy in eating a meal such as this is using your hands." Aziraphale flexes his fingers, itching to dive into the albacore striping his torso but trying hard not to dislodge the chunks of eel balanced on the backs of his hands. "Plus, it’s difficult to manage sushi when one is lying on their back. There's soy sauce dripping over my sides, which, I have to say, feels rather ticklish, and I'm pretty sure a piece of tekkamaki has made a break for freedom." 

Aziraphale watches Crowley as he assesses the situation with more mirth coloring his grinning lips than Aziraphale appreciates. He huffs when his demon selects a choice piece of yellowtail and pops it in his mouth with none of the care Aziraphale takes when he savors his food. 

"H-how cruel of you to put all of my favorite tidbits and morsels so close but out of my reach! What have I ever done to you to deserve this treatment?”

Crowley sniffs haughtily before he swallows his partially chewed bite, to Aziraphale's dismay. "Do you want the list?"

"Yes!" Aziraphale yelps, his voice cracking at the center. "That's why I asked for it!"

"Oh... " Crowley's eyes widen when the unexpected task of coming up with an actual list is presented to him. "Well, you've been oblivious to my feelings about you for the past 6000 years! Do you realize how painful that is?"

"I might say the same to you, to be honest," Aziraphale grumbles, his eyes shifting up to the marble ceiling.

Crowley's eyes open wider. _Oh. He didn't consider that._ "Fair enough."

"What else?"

"You're more adorable than you have any right to be. Especially considering those muscular forearms of yours."

"So forearms are a thing for you?" Aziraphale asks, straightening his back, attempting to look prim and proper while mostly nude and covered in fish.

"Yes," Crowley growls. "At the very least, _your_ forearms are a thing for me."

"O-okay. I see," Aziraphale stutters, balling his hands as best he can, thankful for the adhesive power of sticky rice in keeping things firmly attached to his flesh so he can flex for his husband's benefit. "Is there anything else? Any other way I've wronged you?"

"You said you didn't like me."

"I _don't_ like you." Aziraphale pauses for effect before he delivers the rest of his response. "I _love_ you."

"You broke up with me."

"For roughly a day! And I wouldn't technically call that a breakup. I _was_ trying to save Earth, if you recall."

"Yeah, I recall, I recall," Crowley grumps. "That's another thing."

"What is?"

"You're such an... an... an _angel_! Even when you needn't be!"

Aziraphale chuckles. _Needn't be an angel? What a preposterous thing to say! That's all Aziraphale can be!_ "Like when, for example?"

"Like _now_!" Crowley exclaims, throwing up his hands. "Acting cool and calm when you should be begging me to feed you with my teeth so you can kiss me silly! W-when you should be aching with anticipation, trying to tempt me over so that you can leap on me, press your body against mine and pin me to this table! When we should be making love in the mess without a care! That's why I asked you to do this for me! That's what I wanted for Valentine's!"

"Really?" Aziraphale stares dumbly at his husband, flush-faced and panting from that raunchy confession.

"Yes!" Crowley says, gesturing in frustration.

"Well... " Aziraphale starts, his voice a mere squeak in the tense room, unsure of how he should properly respond "... that's a new shirt you're wearing. Soy sauce is ridiculously impossible to get out of silk. A-and I didn't want to ruin lunch. It looks like you put a lot of work into getting it."

"But of course," Crowley says, scrubbing his hands down his face with mild, albeit fond, irritation. "We can't ruin lunch."

"Is there anything else you'd like to get off your chest?" Aziraphale ventures. "Any other suffering you feel I must atone for?"

“No. Nothing I can think of." Crowley sighs. "Hows about I get you off this table? You do look awfully uncomfortable."

"But... but what about your Valentine's treat?" Aziraphale asks, almost disappointed. 

"We can feed each other. That's plenty _scintillating_." With quicker than lightning hands, Crowley moves the sushi piece by piece onto a big silver platter. Then he grabs his angel's arm and helps him to a sitting position. 

"Thank you," Aziraphale mutters.

"No problem." Crowley offers his angel a piece of salmon nigiri, which he happily nibbles. While Aziraphale massages the feeling into his stiff arms, Crowley gives his cherubic husband a leisurely once-over: sitting on the table without a stitch of clothes, legs crossed at the ankles, plump thighs pressed together, _effort_ on full and impressive display. 

It's there that Crowley's eyes land and there that they stay, not paying any attention when Aziraphale sneaks another piece of sushi off the platter. Then another.

Why not let him have it? Angel can polish off the whole platter if that makes him happy. Crowley didn't have an appetite for cold fish anyway.

He has his sights set on other mouthwatering delights.

"Better yet," he says, licking his lips as he bends over his angel's lap, "you enjoy that, while _I_ enjoy _you_.”


End file.
